The Punisher
by Melitza
Summary: When specialops agent Sango recovers something very special from crimeboss Naraku, she can't imagine what lies ahead. Dr. Miroku finds himself strangely drawn to the tragic girl who will not be broken... SanMir. Permanent Hiatus.
1. A Job Well Done

**Disclaimer: Don't own Inuyasha. Don't own the Punisher. Don't own the music from the Punisher. I own a nice pair of shoes, though…**

**Claimer: The Punisher rocks. So, I'm a-gonna remake it with a bit of a difference – with Naraku as the bad guy, Sango as the Punisher… Anywho, Sango is in Special Ops for the military, as is Inuyasha. Kagome is a nurse, and is Sango's neighbor and friend… Miroku is a doctor. What's not to love?**

By sheer force of will alone, Sango kept herself from drumming her fingers nervously against the wall she leaned against. Instead, she crossed her arms and examined her surroundings as nonchalantly as she could, trying her hardest to exude an aura of indifference.

'_Come on, you conniving bastard. You're late._'

If her 'associate' was being cautious, he would have planted several – perhaps as many as a dozen – unknown pairs of eyes throughout this ill-lit alley, shrouding the hidden eyes throughout the darkness, leaving them to watch her and make sure she didn't do anything suspicious. The back of her neck prickled with anticipation and a little fear – all her hair felt like it was standing on end (of course, that might have just been the wig!). She assumed that if he had been smart enough to do that, he would have been smart enough to make sure at least some of those eyes were watching her from behind the scopes of high powered sniper rifles.

With any luck, just as many eyes were watching the watchers in a very similar way.

A very, very small smile quirked at the corners of Sango's lips.

'_You bastards are done for._'

Her internal musings were interrupted by the crescendo of someone trotting towards her, through the darkness. The young woman swallowed a nervous lump in her throat, and forced herself to remain absolutely still…

"You're late, you bastard. You're lucky I had nowhere else to be!" she snarled, mimicking a thick, foreign accent.

The young man came skidding to a stop right in front of her; the young fool had been about to run right past her! Obviously, he was new at this.

"Sorry I'm late!" he puffed. "Hacking into the vault was a bit trickier than I thought it was going to be – it seems Father is much more paranoid than I thought!" Then, he smiled, self-pride oozing from his every pore.. "I had to kill several guards to get out with this!"

Sango's eyes widened just a hare; she hoped the darkness hid the momentary reaction. A vault? He found it necessary to kill people to get out? Could it possibly be? "Needed to hack into a vault to get money? I thought you were rich, Onigumo!" she tested haphazardly.

"Money! Pah! I got much better than that!" the young man relied, even more cockily if that were possible. "I stole the frickin' jewel!"

Her stomach plummeted; _the_ jewel- the priceless gem that the crime boss Naraku had been suspected of stealing, so many years ago? The jewel that had such a strange atomic structure that scientists had suspected they'd be able to make decades of progress in materials science (and, perhaps, weaponry) just by being able to study it, but had been stolen before they had been able to even start?

If her expression had changed at all, he most certainly didn't seem to notice; instead, he took the jewel out of one of his pockets and tossed it into the air in a carefree manner. "I'm sure this'll more than pay for enough drugs and weapons for me to be able to make my own profitable business, right?"

"I imagine it would," Sango replied quickly, still feigning mild indifference in the foreign accent. It was all she could do to keep her eyes from fixating on the jewel. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined that on her first real stake-out mission that she would not only be able to get Onigumo, son of the biggest crime boss in history, but that she would recover _the jewel_…

"Did you bring the stuff?" he asked, his cockiness growing into impatience. By 'stuff' he meant drugs and weapons – the two things he had apparently decided were the most profitable to acquire and peddle so as to create his own legacy and crime empire. Sango had managed to infiltrate his information sources and work her way into the deal, situating herself as the best hawker in the States…

"Of course, you dumb$$," she replied snippishly, resolutely staying in character. "It's in the warehouse right over there." She jerked her chin at the warehouse directly across the alley from her.

"It won't be enough, now. Not for the jewel," Onigumo decided, now staring fixatedly at the jewel.

"How much do you want, then?"

The handsome young playboy contemplated the thought for a moment. "I want twelve warehouses full of the best sht you've got," he finally announced. "And I want it delivered here!" He jutted a crumbled piece of paper at her; once again, Sango could scarcely believe her luck! He had just given her the address of his hideout…

"And I want you to call it in right now," he finished.

Sango raised an eyebrow, but decided that it would be best to just "call it in". Slowly – very slowly, she reached into her pristine woolen jacket and pulled out a cell phone. She dialed a number with numb fingers and lifted the phone to her ear, though her eyes never left Onigumo. He glared back with impatient blue eyes.

Of course they had planned for this – and so, a very familiar voice answered on the other line from the stake-out van parked on the street nearby…

"What?"

"I need twelve times as much stuff. I need it delivered to –" she glanced down at the paper –"Rainbow Farms, Montana." Sango lifted an eyebrow. Rainbow Farms?

'_Well, I guess no one would look for a drug lord at a place with a goofy name like that…_'

"You follow a dirt track off the main road in Charlottesville, which is a town about 90 miles west of the capital – after about 5 miles on the dirt track, you'll get there," Onigumo interrupted. "Don't talk to any of the locals. Don't anything. Just bring it. Put it in trucks that look like they carry animals and farm sht."

"You get that?" Sango asked her partner, Inuyasha, who was on the other end.

"Hell yeah I did. Consider it done!" Although the reply was gruff, she could almost sense the satisfaction and excitement in his voice. Sango clicked the cell phone off and returned it to her hidden pocket.

"Now the jewel," she demanded, jutting out one hand at the young man. "You know you can trust me. The shipments will be there within a week."

They had him. Men were probably already on their way to 'Rainbow Farms' – and now, Sango would take the jewel, and Onigumo would be placed under arrest…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the clicking of a gun.

"On second thought, I think I'll keep the jewel." Her hand was already flying to the gun hidden at the small of her back, but she was just a little too slow –

The blast of his handgun rang through the alley; red liquid burst from her chest as she slammed back against the brick wall and fell limply to the ground. Within the blink of an eye, she found herself staring up the barrel of the gun. Onigumo just smiled sweetly at the woman he had just mortally wounded, looking for all the world like a child who had just played the most clever joke imaginable.

"And I think I'll keep your stuff, too. But you, my dear – you are simply no longer of consequence to me." Even as he cocked the gun, preparing to finish his 'business' with her, he was entirely unaware of the dozens of lasers dancing across his entire body. Sango couldn't help but to smile, which seemed to mildly unsettle the self-satisfied crime-boss wannabe. "What the hell is so funny?!" he snarled, grabbing her by the collar and shaking her viciously. When she didn't cry out in pain from the jolting movement, he seemed to pale slightly…

"You are, you fricking moron!" screamed an all-too-familiar voice; and with that, Inuyasha, who had come running from the van at the sound of the shot, gave Sango just enough time to viciously twist the gun from Onigumo's hand before he unloaded the first bullet into the crime-boss son's body.

The young man twitched in the air for several seconds as silent bullets pierced his body. By the time he collapsed, there was absolute silence through the alley. Sango guessed that the coast was clear…

"What the hell? You frickin' snipers are frickin' SLOW!" Inuyasha shouted angrily at their unseen accomplices. Though Sango only sat there in silence, she had to agree – she couldn't believe they had let Onigumo actually shoot her! Shivers coursed through her entire body as she wondered – what if he had made a headshot first?

Inuyasha, on the other hand, was continuing his rampage at the hidden guns. "If I have to get a new frickin' partner, I'm gonna frickin' kill someone! It's hard enough to find someone who can do their frickin' half, and just because you people are frickin' slow on the trigger –"

Sango, meanwhile, had climbed into an upright position and was carefully stripping off the bullet proof vest. From the way her chest was aching, she guessed she was going to have one nasty bruise in the morning. '_Good thing father insisted I use fake-blood packets, too… Otherwise Onigumo would have immediately known and maybe made a headshot before the snipers could do anything…_' The young woman's brown eyes shifted from the bullet proof vest to Inuyasha; she raised a quizzical eyebrow at her partner, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. He was still shouting.

She might have been mad, too – by now his continued rampaging was beginning to get funny. And besides… there was something much more important to attend to…

Sango crawled, very slowly, to Onigumo's lifeless body. A part of her twinged with minor guilt – the plan had never been to kill the young man. They had planned on 'finishing the deal' to placate him, and then quietly placing him under arrest in a less dangerous way – but the moment he had drawn his gun on Sango, that plan had no longer been possible. So, in the end, Onigumo had sealed his own fate – but, nevertheless, the young woman still felt bad that it had to end that way.

Numbly, Sango reached into his pocket – and with wonder, she felt her fingertips brush against a smooth, cool surface. Slowly, the pulled the jewel out, and her lips formed a silent 'oh' as she stared at it. Even in the little light in the alleyway, the gem sparkled beautifully…

Even Inuyasha had silenced himself by now; the moment she had withdrawn the jewel from the dead-mans pocket, his words had caught in his throat – and now, the two just stared dumbly at the fruit of their efforts…

"_The Shikon Jewel…"_ she whispered breathlessly, hardly believing what she held in her hands…

**I like. Do you like? If you do, I'm sure many, many reviews of this and my other works would spur me into writing faster… I'm very sure indeed! So review, my pretties! Also, check back often for updates – I'll probably be editing this chapter, too… But I have to be up in a few hours, sooo, goodnight!**


	2. A Bright New Day

**Disclaimer: I am but a poor college student. I once owned a pizza, but I ate it…**

**Claimer: More Punisher-Sango Style! madness just for you! Enjoy!**

Sango took in a deep breath to fight down an increasing feeling of giddiness; she hugged her magenta mini-backpack to her chest tried to fight down the shivers of excitement coursing down her spine.

'_I can't believe it. We did it… We really did it. Inuyasha and I got back the Shikon Jewel – we did something that the government has been trying to accomplish for over a year – and on our first assignment!_'

A rueful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she pranced down the walkway towards the house she shared with her family.

'_With my family…_' Sango cocked her head slightly to the side, momentarily pausing to stare at her long-time home. '_I could probably get my own place now; I'm sure Inuyasha and I will both be getting rewards for a job well done..._' It wasn't like she wanted to get away from her family – she adored her father and brother more than anything – but, well – she was in her twenties now, and she realized that it was probably time to start at least giving the appearance of being independent. Doing such a spectacular job had assured her job security, and now, the future was looking very bright.

'_Pah. It's not like getting my own place could keep me from being here most of the time_,' she noted wryly to herself.

But, still – maybe –

'_Maybe – maybe I could get a place, and Kohaku could stay with me..._' She rolled the thought around in her mind, 'tasting' it as delicately as a wine connoisseur might sample a prized draught. Her smile increased just a fraction. '_And – I could help pay for his college, so he can study art._'

The more moments that passed with that thought in her head, the giddier she felt. Father wasn't particularly thrilled about Kohaku's interest in pursuing art – their father had, after all, been in special ops his entire life. When Sango had chosen to pursue the same career he had been overjoyed. It was becoming more apparent by the day, however, that Kohaku wasn't really meant for such a calling. The soft hearted, loving young man spent his days in gentler pursuits – sketching, painting, and practicing all things artistic, much to his gruff father's chagrin. It wasn't that their father didn't support him – but, in typical alpha male fashion, he tended to engross a lot of effort in trying to convince his son that he would much rather pursue something – well – different.

But if she could take her younger brother out of the house, there wouldn't be as much friction between the two while Kohaku pursued his personal dreams. He and Sango could live downtown – hell, they could even live in one of the apartment buildings right down the road! – close enough that they could visit their father on a daily basis, but far enough away that Kohaku could foster his interests without the good-intentioned interventions.

Her smile turned into a full-blown grin, and with giggles spilling from her lips, the slender young woman ran back to her car; she popped the trunk and immediately dove into the mess therein, digging through duffle bags of rumpled gym clothes until she found her quarry. When she finally emerged victoriously from her trunk-hunting, she was holding a brightly wrapped, text-book sized package in one hand. Though Kohaku's birthday wasn't for another week, she simply couldn't contain her excitement – she wanted to tell him her plans, and she could think of no better way…

Sango spun around, looking for something else –

'_Ah. Flowers!_'

Looking both ways before crossing, the young woman trotted across the suburban street. "Hey! Kagome!" she called, approaching her kneeling neighbor with a grin still on her lips.

The other girl looked up from her careful gardening with a bit of surprise at Sango's chipper voice. "Sango! Hi!" Cocking her head quizzically to one side, she noted cheerfully, "You seem happy."

"I had a really great day at work," Sango replied, all smiles; though her friend still looked mildly curious, the special-ops agent rushed on before any questions could be asked. "Do you mind if I pick a few flowers?"

Kagome's eyes lit up with a mischievous sparkle; with a knowing wink, she teased her long-time friend in a mock-condescending tone. "Only if they're for a boy, Sango!"

A light shade of pink accentuated the older girl's face; she toed the dirt of the garden, her steel toed oxfords leaving small ruts in the earth. With some chagrin, she replied. "For my brother – does that count?"

The black haired young woman shook the garden trowel threateningly at her blushing friend. "Honestly, Sango! I'm going to hook you up with a doctor one of these days, and you aren't going to be able to feed me any 'working odd hours' excuse –"

Quickly selecting a spontaneous little bouquet, the brunette made a quick escape from the ranting Kagome. "Thank you for the flowers, Kagome – I don't know what I'd do without you!" she called back at her well-intentioned best-friend…

" – I mean, I work odd hours too, but I still manage to – _you're welcome_!" the young girl shouted at her retreating friend. Sango waved the bouquet back at the girl before disappearing into her house, looking for her father or her brother – whichever she found first…

As luck would have it, it was the former.

She knew she wasn't _really_ supposed to tell him everything about work – but the moment she saw him, she knew she couldn't keep it a secret from him. She latched on to him, eagerly confessing _everything_ – about her mission and it's resounding success – about Inuyasha, about Onigumo, about the Shikon Jewel–

Her father stood and listened as calmly as if he had been reading the newspaper; in point of fact, if it weren't for the occasional flashes of pride, love, and concern she saw flicker across his face, she might have been worried that he wasn't listening. But he _was_ listening – and she knew she could trust him. From the bottom of her heart she wanted him to know _everything_. She loved her father, and to be anything short of truthful to him would break her heart – she had always shared her life with him, and she always wanted to…

And so, without thinking, she blurted…

"I think that now that my job is secure, I could get an apartment, and Kohaku could live with me. We could get it right at that complex down the street, even – we would visit you all the time, father – because… well, I mean, I know that you love Kohaku, but you keep pushing him to be something he's not! And I could help pay for his college, and he could study art like he wants, and –"

The torrent of words stopped dead in her throat when she realized what she had just inadvertently confessed.

'_Uh. I probably shouldn't have said… that…_'

Funny, that she could tell him 'vital' secrets, and she could tell him about her near-death experience, she could tell him about everything – and yet the single moment the confessions went too far was when she had so nonchalantly spoke about breaking up their family. '_I should have talked to him about it first. I shouldn't have just blurted it out like that_…'

The young woman blanched as her father stared, silently regarding her with a curious expression on his face. He seemed to be just digesting her words – at first, she expected him to shout at her, or frown disapprovingly, or deny what she had said…

But instead, he said the very last thing she could have possibly expected; in a quiet, thoughtful tone, he made his reply. "I think that is a good idea, Sango."

'_He – thinks – it's – wait? What?_' She had misheard him. She _must_ have misheard him…

With some embarrassment, she realized that her jaw was hanging open; as it were, she felt as if someone had hit her in the back of the head with a board. "You mean – we – we really can?" Sango whispered, feeling tears of joy prickling behind her eyes. Of course, she hadn't exactly expected her father to say that they couldn't –

But nor had she expected him to so readily accept the idea.

"You're a responsible young woman, Sango – you're wise beyond your years." Now, he smiled broadly and stepped forward to take his daughter into his arms. The young woman was easily enveloped in her father's strong embrace, and she felt the tears trickling down her cheeks. "What you say is true. I am pushing him towards something I want for him – not something he wants for himself. You are very mature to see this." He squeezed her again, warmly. "And you have proposed a mutually satisfying agreement."

"You mean – you mean you wouldn't be too lonely? That you'd be ok being here – alone?"

Strong hands pushed her back to arms length, and her father ruffled her bangs lovingly; Sango blushed fiercely at the rare display of affection. "I don't believe the two of you would ever leave me _alone_." He smiled fondly at her, patting her on the head. "And besides, with this arrangement, you two won't be keeping me up late at night with that horrible rock music!"

For moments on end, Sango merely stood rooted in place, staring at her father. '_He trusts us. He loves us. He said it's ok._' Unbridled excitement fluttered in her chest. '_Kohaku and I… we're…_'

"You just make sure to _each _come back at least once a day, do you understand?" She nodded eagerly, and her father just smiled. The silence between them stretched, until finally, he laughed, making a shooing motion at her. "Well don't just stand there, Sango! Aren't you going to go tell your brother the good news?"

Not needing any further encouragement, the brunette spun on her heel and took off at a sprint up the stairs – she didn't slow her pace until she came to a skidding halt at his doorframe. "Kohaku!" she called, breathless with excitement.

Her brother looked up with distress from where he had been lounging across his bed, reading a book. "Sango – is something wrong? –"

"I have an early birthday gift for you!" she said by way of explanation; the boy looked even more confused as she shoved the brightly-wrapped package into his hands.

"Um –"

"Open it!" Sango demanded, her expressive brown eyes sparkling with excitement. If he noticed her holding one hand behind her back, he didn't say anything. Instead, he shrugged a little, and tore the paper off the early gift…

His eyes widened as he withheld what had been contained within - a beautiful set of prismacolored pencils with a large, leather bound sketchbook. The young boy's brown eyes shifted from the gifts, to his sister, and back again. "Thank you, Sango…" he whispered, stroking the binding of the leather portfolio with awe. "They're just like what the professionals use…"

"I also brought you these!" Sango continued brightly, now revealing the makeshift little bouquet of flowers that she had been keeping behind her back. Though nothing spectacular, they were pretty in a charming 'home garden' kind of way, and the bright colors seemed to fit the occasion just perfectly. She jutted the flowers at him until he he numbly took them from her fingers.

"But – why?" he managed, now thoroughly confused.

"I was hoping that maybe you could sketch them," Sango offered slyly; a self-satisfied smile lit up her face. When he only continued to look confused, she finished... "You know – so we can put it up in our apartment."

Kohaku blinked very carefully at his older sister. "Our… apartment?" he whispered unbelievingly.

Sango grinned and nodded so emphatically she was afraid she might hurt her neck. "We could start looking tomorrow, if you'd like?" she offered, her voice uneven from the exuberant emotions dancing gaily through her insides.

"Our – our apartment…?" And finally, the words seemed to sink in; a torrent of emotions flickered across his dark brown eyes – and with no further warning, the teenager flung himself against his older sister, capturing her in an embrace so tight she was afraid he might crack a rib. "OUR APARTMENT!" he shrieked in joy. The two skipped and giggled insanely for what seemed like a small eternity; when the teenage boy had finally calmed himself, Sango pushed him away to arms length and gave him as serious a look as she could muster…

"I think you should get to work on those sketches, Kohaku. I want you to be the best when college starts next fall." Though she was pretty sure she had managed to keep her face in the semblance of a rigorous task-master, her sparkling eyes undoubtedly gave away the _true_ levity of the situation.

"College – for – art?" His voice cracked; his face was lit with inexplicable hope, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to believe this waking dream. "Father is – he's really going to let me – do art?"

Sango's heart fluttered so wildly that she was afraid she might die of happiness. "Yes, Kohaku. Yes!"

In that moment, nothing could have stolen her bliss. The world was going her way, and life was looking up – _way up_. The future was a bright one, indeed, and Sango couldn't wait for tomorrow…

**Oh my. I'm tearing up. Are you? Wait, I can't hear you – maybe you should click on that submit review button… If you want more, you would! pokes you with a stick **


	3. Dark as Pitch

**Disclaimer: Ok, I might have lied when I said I own _nothing_. On second inspection, I guess I do own a few other things… But only a few, I swear! Unfortunately, none of those things are the right to Inuyasha…**

**But enough madness - more plot-thickening! Yes?**

A high-tech, state-of-the-art eye-scan examined the intricate patterns of a young woman's brown eyes; the way she shuffled to and fro throughout the scan made it clear that she was growing impatient with the growing security checkpoints.

"It's not as if I could even get the building if I didn't work here," she muttered with irritability at the inanimate object, her sultry voice laced with scorn. The machine just hummed away, dutifully and efficiently scanning its records, obviously unaware of the hassle it caused its patrons.

"Level 5 clearance verified."

The young woman sniffed in slight disdain as the large metal doors swished open before her, allowing her access to the inner laboratory. Without a backwards glance, she picked up her briefcase and stalked into the room –

- only to find her very least favorite person already lounging idly within.

"What do you want, Naraku?" Kikyo demanded, her voice calm and composed, though smolderingly hatred dangerously flashed within her narrowed eyes. "I have work to do – and if you wanted it done, you would leave me to it."

The man looked up with feigned mild surprise, but the slow, deliberate way he moved and regarded her made it very clear that he was anything but. Blue-eye lined mahogany eyes slid leisurely over her form, leaving her feeling violated even from beneath her thick white lab coat - the visual interrogation felt akin to greasy hands being rubbed over her bare skin. In spite of her most valiant effort to remain obstinately stoic in the face of his blatant attempt to unsettle her, Kikyo shivered.

The shiver wasn't born from fear, however; Naraku's other henchman might cower in fright of him, Kikyo did not. She would not. Instead, she narrowed her own eyes and returned his glare with one of her own, palatable loathing filling the silence between them.

Finally, the man called Naraku broke the silence, his voice laced with sweet sarcasm. "Now, Kikyo – is that any way to treat me? I, to whom you owe everything you have – everything you are?" Now, he slid his gaze idly to his fingernails, examining them as if they were the most interesting things in the world.

"I owe you nothing, Naraku!" the young woman snapped; though her composure remained as indifferent as ever, her lashing denial was scornful. "What I was indebted to you I have repaid time and again!"

'_You made a pact with the devil – you signed away your soul. You will never be free of him,_' the logical part of her mind reminded her. It seemed like so long ago that she had bound herself to this terrible man…

Once, she had been an innocent youth. She had regarded the world with a bright and eager eye – once, she had seen the good in the world as she excitedly pursued knowledge. Oh, what a dreadful youth she had been – if only her heart had been bleaker – if only she had had less aptitude for the schooling she had wanted so badly –

But alas, her fool heart had led her on, and her traitorous mind had soaked in the knowledge like a dry sponge. She had thrived on the challenge of school, and she met each and every day with a vivacious drive that had made her all the better suited for it. By what terrible twist of fate had she first allowed herself the notion of becoming a great scientist, a profound researcher?

By what terrible twist of fate had she been born poor?

Or, perhaps the most poignant of the questions yet: by what terrible twist of fate had she found Naraku?

Oh, Naraku… Young, handsome – quiet, intelligent, wealthy Naraku.

'_Deceitful, treacherous, hateful, conniving Naraku!_' her mind screamed at her past-self, yet ever her fate remained the same, ever she stayed the course…

And oh, how she hated herself for it… but never as much as she hated Naraku; no – never that.

How could she have resisted when the wealthy young man had made such promises to her? How could she have resisted the funding he so promptly offered her? True, she had known that all was not as it seemed – she had known that his money was dirtied, and in taking it, she too would become the same...

But oh, those traitorous dreams of hers! How doggedly they had eaten at her, how doggedly her own psyche had turned on her, pleading and cajoling and convincing until she had readily accepted the manipulative offer. '_He will pay for my college – and as part of the deal, he guarantees me a job working for him afterwards,_' her past-self argued forcefully. '_How could I pass up such an offer?_' How, indeed?

"Time and again…" she finished in a whisper, but even to her own ears the words were lipid and feeble, unconvincing. Oh yes, she had eagerly accepted that proffered deal, that bloodied money – she had gotten that damned schooling she had yearned so badly for – but she had paid for it with her soul…

"Have you?" the older man asked idly, still investigating those damned fingernails, his body language silently screaming, '_What you say means nothing._' When he continued, his voice was filled with cryptic mockery; as if to further make light of the situation, he carelessly flipped his long wavy locks over one shoulder. "So why do you remain, then, _Doctor_ Kikyo? Praytell, she who has repaid her debts time and again – do explain."

"You know goddamned well why I stay, Naraku!" she snapped coldly. "For the Jewel!"

Not even quite in her third decade of living, and already she hated the world – long gone were those days of bright-eyed greetings to the beginning of each new morning. Here were the days of hate and contempt. Here were the days that she used everything she had so happily learned in hopes of progressing mankind instead for the progression of a man she had grown to hate – for the progression of a man she now knew possessed a soul as black as the pitch of night.

Days of fruitful research, days when she could almost forget where she was or why she was here, were always interrupted by Naraku or one of his minions. Chemistry had once been something fascinating for her – she had always performed so well in the classes. '_Kikyo's experiments always turn out the best_,' the other students would complain enviously; '_Kikyo always gets A's on the tests._' So fascinating, so important – chemistry had churned out some of the most prolific, life-saving medicines through the years – penicillin, ammonia, hydroxide…

And yet for every life-saving medicine, there were two life-taking poisons, two foul gases that could snuff the life from a human in a single breath, two acids that could so terribly burn a man that DNA analysis would be necessary to identify him, a timely and costly process that would give Naraku and his men plenty of time to befoul the trail leading back to them. If only she had known that the knowledge she had sought so as to save life would only be used to take it. If she had known this would be her cruelly ironic fate – better that she had died in the slums from whence she came! Surely a physical death – any physical death – was better than this never-ending hell. Surely death was better than knowing that every day she came to work, every concoction she made – it all was a twisted trail leaving inevitably to death.

She might have left – surely she could have years ago. A change in name, a change in address – a change in country; while none of these things would guarantee her being out of his reach (in point of fact, she doubted any of these things would do more than delay his finding her, should he put his mind to it – such was the extent of his network), she doubted that she was really worth the effort to him. There were other young women out there to be manipulated, other young women who would do his dirty work. He already had others: dozens that she knew of – possibly hundreds that she didn't. She might have considered leaving, at one point…

But the jewel had changed everything.

The Shikon Jewel – now her existence, and as such, her bane.

As soon as she had heard of its discovery she had been unnaturally drawn to it. As a scientist, she had wanted very greatly to study it. As the self-absorbed woman she had slowly morphed into over the years, she had wanted very badly to be the one studying it. Naraku, undoubtedly knowing what advantages could be made if he had the jewel and was able to monopolize on the great discoveries made from studying its strange atomic structure, had been only too eager to accommodate her desire.

She didn't know how he got it – she didn't even care. His massacres were none of her concern; it was the facilities, the science, and the Jewel which she wanted, and it was all of these things which he provided her.

And so, she stayed. Even while loathing what terrible things he made her use her science for, she couldn't bring herself to stop. Her profession – or, more specifically, the Shikon Jewel – had become an obsession. It had taken months before he was able to have the facilities made in a location where they wouldn't be subject to scrutiny, and yet all those months, and even those years after she had earned her doctorate of chemistry and used it for Naraku's purposes, were worth it in the end. She would have done them ten times over again for that spectacular prize of the game – for that amazing, precious gem…

'_All for a gem? Oh Kikyou, you wretched fool. What have you done?_' But the guilty part of her, that small indignant voice crying out in the back of her mind, no longer mattered. It was too late for it to matter. She had made her choice, and now, as ever, she stayed the course…

Unaware or indifferent to her internal musings, Naraku spoke four words that shattered her silent reverie: "The Jewel is gone."

The blood rushed from her already pale face, and yet Kikyo still did not bring down her icy composure. "What do you mean, _gone_?" she hissed, her mind reeling.

"It seems Onigumo thought it would catch a fair price on the market," Naraku spoke, his composure still as indifferent as ever. "He stole it last night and killed the guards before fleeing. It seems he ran afoul, however, as he is dead, and the Jewel is gone."

He spoke of his own son's death as if he were making note of the weather. While it wasn't any secret that Naraku had never much cared for his playboy son, she still thought that he might have shown some remorse, or sorrow – or anything! But, callous as ever, Naraku just sat there.

'_Monster_,' that small voice screamed. And yet she was mildly surprised to hear the cold indifference in her own words. "Where is the Jewel?"

"I am beginning to think that the police were involved in its recovery," the monster admitted, a sly look in his eyes.

"I want it back." She no longer recognized herself; what was she saying?

"And how do you propose I do that?" he prompted. "Didn't you once go out with someone in the police?"

"He wouldn't give me the time of day now!" she snapped irritably. "Set your gods-damned Kanna on it – I don't care how you find it! Just get it back!" Why did she feel so possessive of it? Why was it so vital that it be returned?

'_Your life is nothing without it. The Shikon Jewel is your life,_' that horrified voice in the back of her mind whispered.

"And how am I to keep it from simply being taken again?" he continued with his subtle prompting. "Onigumo is dead – and yet, perhaps my other minions will be inspired to follow his example in betraying me. What would keep this from happening again, Kikyo?" Somewhere, the back of her mind screamed for her to not take the bait – and yet she did anyway.

"Make an example of someone!" she snarled, her voice chillingly harsh. "Make an example of the next most instrumental person in its theft! Make an example of their whole gods-damned family – I don't care! Just get it back!"

Even as the words left her mouth, and even before the corners of his thin lips curled up in satisfaction, she knew that she had played right into his hands. He had already planned on doing just that, no doubt; and yet still, he had come here just to goad her on, just to manipulate her – just to check if her spirit had been broken yet. And she had played right into his hands; she had condoned – no, she had _demanded_ – that which once had appalled her.

She had demanded the murder of another human being.

'_Your soul has become as dark as his – as dark as pitch. Oh, have far you have strayed, Kikyo…_' Somewhere deep inside of her heart, that which was good wept bitterly. Or perhaps it died.

And yet somehow, she couldn't bring herself to care.

**Ohhhh my. I really liked that – tragic enough? Please let me know what you think! Suggestions and comments are always welcome! **


	4. Reluctantly Conniving

**Disclaimer: I own a lot of Inuyasha keychains now, but as to owning Inuyasha… nope.**

**Claimer: Introducing yet another tragic character. I hope you guys like. (Yes, I swear, I will get back to Sango… and Inuyasha… and Kagome… and Miroku! But you have to review before I do that! So there!)**

Delicate strings of pearls hung from the lobes of each of her dainty ears; her short ebony locks were bundled away tightly into a bun at the top of her head, though heavy strands adorned her forehead. Her lips were painted a bright red, and her eyes – thanks to those wonderful things called contact lenses – were a matching shade of ruby, unsettling to all who saw them. She often shaded her eyes from others with her bangs, waiting until the most effective moment to reveal her frightening gaze.

Beneath a black, skin-clinging mesh shirt she wore an even more skin-clinging black tank top adorned with a giant red anarchy circle on the chest. Her baggy red, white, and black plaid slacks, were frayed away at around the calves, revealing the shiny-black lace up boots beneath. To finish off her attire, chains were hung randomly from the cargo-style pockets of her pants, giving an overall appearance that was – well –

Intimidating. Yes; that was the word. She looked very intimidating, even without the gun tucked at the small of her back being visible.

Kagura liked to think of herself as a punk – powerful, determined, and fierce; indifferent to the world, spiteful to her enemies, and snide with her allies. Those who had the misfortune of making her acquaintance feared her, and even those who knew _nothing_ about her still managed to realize that this was one woman not to be crossed.

Ah, yes – Kagura was a force to be reckoned with.

The corners of her lips twitched into the tiniest of self-satisfied smirks as she nimbly twirled her fan around idle fingertips. '_I could make it on my own. No one would mess with me now,_' she mused wistfully. '_And if they did – I'd just have to show them how un-helpless I am…_' She didn't have to live a life of luxury – maybe she could even find a legit job somewhere. Though relatively uneducated, she was sure she could be happy, even living in poverty; hell, she had come from poverty! So long as she was free, she couldn't imagine being anything _but_ happy…

'_I am nothing. He tells me that all the time. Perhaps he wouldn't even look for me?_' A faint glimmer of hope twitched in the young woman's yearning heart. Perhaps things weren't hopeless afterall? Perhaps she did have a future – a future of her own design – a future of her own choosing. For a few moments, Kagura allowed herself to dream. She dreamt of a small apartment, a small shack – hell, a small box, even – she dreamt of a place to call her own; a place where she could sit and not have to worry about intrusions or beatings; a place that would be wholly _hers_. She thought about having a regular 8-5 job, doing some trivial task. She thought of interacting with regular human beings – of maybe (dare she dream?) actually being appreciated, or cared for – or perhaps even cherished, just for being _Kagura_.

Her silent musings were brought to a rudely abrupt ending at the sound of her door crashing open; she winced as the steel door rammed into the wall that opposed it from continuing its rotational path, undoubtedly leaving a dent. Good thing she hadn't been standing near it, or it would have been her sporting the injury – her master had probably slammed the door open deliberately in hopes of just that…

Kagura leapt to her feet, and her ruby-red eyes widening of their own accord at the sight of an irritated Naraku. "Where is Kanna?" the man snapped, his mahogany eyes flashing in impatience, as if he had expected the other girl to simply materialize out of thin air the moment he spoke her name.

Well, seeing as everyone in his service was meant to live just to serve his every whim, he probably expected just that to happen.

Seething anger swelled within the young woman's chest, her eyes glittering with dangerous defiance. "Probably exactly where you left her!" Kagura dared to snap irritably, her voice laced with antagonism. "Isn't that where she always is?"

Though the words she spoke were most certainly the truth, the way she spoke them was entirely inappropriate. She knew that; years and years of being beaten or tortured for her insolence had instilled that much in her – and yet today, spurred on by her own inner musings, the woman refused to swallow her pride.

'_I am not like Kanna – I will not sit placated while you jerk my chain!_'

One mahogany eye slid to her, annoyance flashing dully behind the orb. Though Kagura raised her chin bravely in further insolence, she couldn't help but to blanch slightly in anticipation of the beating to come. In spite of herself, she stood tall, waiting for him to react as he always did when she showed any spirit…

'_You don't own me – and you won't ever break me!_' she snarled mentally at her master. '_I will be free of you someday!_' Her traitorous body betrayed her resolute heart and mind as it trembled very slightly beneath his glare; even so, she would not allow herself to stand down.

To her surprise, he did not descend upon her; instead, he spun on one heel and excited her room, snapping, "I haven't time for your games, you worthless cur! Come!"

His tone was much more degrading than any thrashing could have been; he spoke to her as if she were a dog. He commanded her as if she were a mindless pet. And even more degrading, she found herself ducking her head and following him, her feet leading her complacently behind him.

'_Someday, one of the countless people you have wronged will get you, and then, I will dance on your grave!_' she vowed silently, willing her angry gaze to shrivel his black little heart.

Perhaps even more infuriating than the way he ordered her to follow was the way he didn't even look back to see if she was doing so. So confident was he in her servitude that he didn't even find it necessary to check – he didn't even doubt for a moment that she would do exactly as he said.

Oh, how she loathed that smug bastard!

"Ah, Kanna! There you are! It seems your sister was right – exactly where I left you!" The irritation was gone from Naraku's voice; now, he seemed mildly pleased to have found his other servant.

Kagura's skin rippled in a slight shudder at the word 'sister'. Though she had been too young when she had first come under the servitude of Naraku to really remember anything before, she extremely doubted that Kanna was really her sister. For one thing, the two looked nothing alike – Kagura was a tall young woman with raven-black tresses; Kanna, though younger by several years, was still disproportionately shorter, with a full head of platinum blonde hair that was more silver than gold; the girl further accentuated her pale coloration by only wearing white, which washed her out so much that she looked like an apparition. Her eyes were black and unreadable, and her face never seemed to display any emotion.

Moreover, their personalities could not be more un-alike. If Kagura was fiery, tempered, and insolent, Kanna was – well – Kanna was nothing. The younger girl never even spoke to Kagura, even when the latter went out of her way to entertain a dialog with her. Instead, Kanna would simply sit there and return that blank, expressionless stare. The wraith-like girl seemed to take everything in and yet let nothing escape; she did nothing except what Naraku asked of her.

And for that, Kagura had grown to despise the girl throughout the years. While Kagura was a caged tiger, an unhappy prisoner and forced pawn in Naraku's game, Kanna seemed to be a willing, if indifferent, housecat and pet of the crime boss. She did as she was told, and she didn't seem to care. Kagura despised her content apathy, if only because she couldn't bring herself to share it.

"Yes, my lord," Kanna replied to Naraku, her voice as devoid of life as her face. The young girl's dull coloration was, as usual, further washed-out from the monitor light of the laptop situated in her lap. The girl stared into the screen, though Kagura didn't have to look at it to know that there was currently nothing there. Naraku hadn't asked her to do anything yet, after all – and Kanna did nothing unless told to.

'_It's as if she isn't even alive,_' Kagura shuddered. She might not be free, but neither was she _dead_.

"Kanna – Onigumo stole the Shikon Jewel last night, and then met his early death shortly thereafter." Kagura's crimson eyes widened in shock – Onigumo, Naraku's own son, had betrayed him? And now, he spoke of his own son's death as if it were of absolutely no consequence?

'_His own flesh and blood – if he doesn't even care if his own flesh and blood dies…_' She didn't need to finish that thought. She had already known that she was an insect to him – yet somehow, this new development shook her. If Onigumo, who had had so many funds and contacts, couldn't get away…

"I need you to find where the Jewel is, and I need you to find out who took it from him," finished Naraku. Kanna's little fingers were already nimbly flying over the keyboard in her lap, presumably already on the trail like the bloodhound she was. No information was out of reach of the apparently unsurpassed hacker. "I want you to find out _everything_ about the person who took it from him."

Kagura, however, was paying the younger girl no heed. '_Wait – find who took it?_' Her breath caught in her throat as the implications of those words hit her. '_Naraku wasn't the one who found Onigumo. Naraku wasn't the one who killed him._'

If only for a few brief hours, Onigumo had been free! Who knows why he died; who cared? He had assured his own eventual demise by taking the Shikon Jewel. He must have known it was precious to Naraku – perhaps if he hadn't taken so large a risk, perhaps he might have been free. And if he could be free…

If Onigumo, Naraku's own son and 'heir', could have thought he could escape Naraku – then perhaps her dreams of freedom weren't so far-fetched after all; she, who was nothing – she who was an insect – perhaps she, too, could satisfy her rebellious soul…

Once again, Kagura was startled out of her reverie, but this time it wasn't from the crash of a door against a wall, but rather from an uncomfortable silence. Guarded mahogany eyes were coldly regarding her; Naraku's face was darkly thoughtful as he stared at her, and for one irrationally horrified moment the henchman was sure that he could hear her traitorous thoughts. "W – what?" the punk snapped, trying to sound challenging but only succeeded in sounding uncertain. The silence stretched for several more unbearable moments before her master finally spoke.

"Naturally you're going to have to do your part as well, Kagura," Naraku replied silkily. Though her eyes narrowed, she made no move to leave as her master started to explain exactly what he was planning…

**Ok… please review! I need critiques on my writing and the storyline… And I'd be inspired knowing I have a few readers… Yup… that'd be great!**


	5. Fleeting Moments

**Disclaimer: Maybe if all Inuyasha fanfiction writers chipped in we would have enough to buy the rights. But, until we all collaborate on that, no Inuyasha for me.**

A rush of wind across her face was the only confirmation of the punch that had narrowly missed her face; Sango was already twirling away from the errant blow, one leg high in a kick as she put her attacker on the defensive.

"Hah! You're going to have to be faster than that, Inuyasha!" the young agent taunted her partner as he easily deflected the kick. Sango slipped easily back into her fighting stance, keeping her securely balled fists at chest-height, ready for action.

"Ditto," the raven-haired young man replied, his blue eyes narrowing in concentration, though there were traces of amusement in his voice. For several moments the two merely stood, staring each other down, waiting for some sort of a break in the other's defenses.

"What's the matter, Inuyasha? Afraid of me?" she mocked good-naturedly, a playful grin lighting up her face.

"Keh!" he snorted his indignant response, leaping at her with a flurry of lightning-fast blows. Sango backpedaled carefully, efficiently deflecting the well-aimed punches and kicks. The other agent continued driving her back until finally, through some unspoken signal, the two stopped, both panting very slightly from the exertion of their extra-long practice.

Sango glanced at the clock on the far wall with mild surprise. "Oh! Geez, I'm late!"

"Where are _you_ going?" the long-haired young man asked; though the question came out as somewhat snide, Sango had long ago grown used to the abrasive way Inuyasha went about – well – all things social.

"I took the rest of the afternoon off – it's Kohaku's birthday party, a family reunion thing," Sango replied cheerfully; the moment she mentioned her family she felt her smile increase a hare.

"Oh?" Inuyasha asked with seeming boredom; he didn't really have a family, so Sango's obsession with familial closeness had probably always struck him as a bit odd. She didn't mind though – he always seemed to take it in stride when she took time off for family matters, and today seemed to be no exception to the rule. Though he might whine and complain about the time off sometimes, he never actually made any constructive criticisms.

"Yup – should be fun!" she replied, wiping her face off with a towel, the grin still lighting up her features.

"Yeah, well, you should get it out of your system so you're ready to work on Monday, Taijiya," he replied with a bit of a sniff, though she could tell that he didn't mean it as haughtily as he said it.

The young woman couldn't help but to roll her eyes at her workaholic partner. "Whatever, Hanyou," she replied with mock solemnity and a playful 'tisk'. It wasn't that she didn't take work seriously – quite to the contrary, really – but when compared to Inuyasha Hanyou, who had practically nothing outside of his work in special-ops to occupy his time, she was quite the slacker indeed.

As it were, the two had been given something of a respite since they had captured the Jewel earlier this week. Though she found the lack of consumptive work rather relaxing, she knew the young man was simply itching out of his skin to _do_ something. So, when Monday came, she had no doubt that Inuyasha would have somehow gotten them assigned to one case or another, and the agents would once again be haring off after some crime boss or another…

But Sango would worry about Monday when Monday came. Today, it was Kohaku's birthday, and all of her relatives would be there to celebrate it. So, after Sango took a quick shower to wash off the sweat from her workout, she quickly donned comfortable slacks and a light sweater and took off for the afternoon…

It was a brilliant spring day outside; the sun seemed to mirror Sango's mood, as it was bright and sparkling in the clear blue sky. The gentle breeze was slightly cool to one's skin, but it was refreshingly so; the temperature hovered at just the right spot that it was comfortable to wear long or short sleeves, and the warming rays of the sun seemed to perfectly complement the air.

The smile simply wouldn't leave Sango's face as she drove down the winding road through the heavily-forested countryside. She only had to drive a few minutes out of town before she found the road she was looking for; she turned down it and in seemingly no time at all, arrived at a small boat-dock.

"There she is! Sango is here!" screeched an aunt the very moment Sango stepped from her car door. The young agent felt her face flush with pleasant embarrassment as the woman gushingly proceeded to proclaim how wonderful her niece was looking…

"And you look so good! Doesn't she look good? Of course she does! And so fit! You are truly your father's daughter!" the woman continued. "But I can see your mother in your looks, most certainly –"

"Hey, gush on the island! I'm not holding the boat for you all day, woman!" her uncle shouted jestingly from the lakes edge, where he stood, waiting for them to board his fishing boat. Her aunt grumbled a little, but obligingly swept Sango with her to the boat, and in no time, the trio was making its way to the tiny island in the center of the lake, Sango apparently being the final relative to arrive…

Sango grinned happily as her aunt continued to gabber on about this and that; though nothing that she said was of particular importance, the young agent reveled in it anyway. Being surrounded by family was as comforting as the gentle waves that rocked the small boat to and fro while they traveled through the lake.

Finally, they arrived at the island, and Sango took in a deep breath. The air was scented with the gentle fragrance of blossoms.

'_Kami, how I love that smell!_' she thought with whole-hearted enthusiasm. Of course, while the smell in and of itself was pleasant, she knew that part of the reason she had come to be so fond of it was simply because of what it stood for to her.

So as to coincide with most of Sango's cousins birthdays, the spring reunion was typically held in early April, and as such, the trees were always exploding with blossoms at that time. The Taijiya clan was a close one, indeed, and they took every opportunity they could to get together. Since they all lived within about a 50 mile radius, they had get-togethers at least once per season – and, during the spring and summer seasons, and sometimes even in the autumn, they typically held the reunions here, on a quaint little island one of her uncles owned…

Apparently the little island in the center of the lake had come to hold significance to Sango's father and his many siblings, as they always stoutly insisted – even when the weather was less than permitting – to hold the reunions here. The island wasn't very big; it was probably scarcely a half mile in diameter at any given point. Half of it was roughly wooded with thick terrain, while the other half was open, complete with a comfy cabin with running water and all the other necessities.

Right on the corner of the wooded and cleared terrain, right at the edge of the pier where they docked the boats, there was a neat little patch of cherry trees. Oh, how Sango loved those cherry trees!

'_How many memories are rooted there, in that little orchard?_' she mused idly, her brown eyes latching on to the beckoning blossoms as she carefully stepped from the now-docked boat.

'_Too many to count_,' she finally decided. She remember when her mother had been alive, holding hands with her father as they walked through the trees, laughing as Sango and Kohaku had rough-housed in the shade. She remembered racing her brother among the bases, and climbing skillfully to the top to pluck a few of the ripe fruits as sweet trophies for her efforts, and then eagerly shimmying back down to triumphantly present them to her parents. She remembered cuddling idly with her mother and father beneath these trees while she watched the sun make its lazy path across the sky…

And, in later years, after her mother had died, she remembered gazing at the flower pedals strewn across the soft grass, trying to imagine the times when the family had been whole and happy beneath their shade. But, those melancholy years had passed, and once again, Sango felt happy and content here. There were no sad memories on this island; no, this was a place where she could always remember the good times.

And so, as she slowly worked her way through the maze of talkative and loving relatives, it was with a deliberate method and direction. Sango scarcely even stopped to talk to her father, who had apparently arrived earlier; instead, she resolutely made her way to the orchard…

With a content sigh, Sango drifted to the ground beneath one of the trees. She lounged against the narrow trunk, and with half-hooded brown eyes, she happily watched the busily-interacting Taijiya clan from a distance. '_This is how life is meant to be_,' she nodded to herself. There wasn't a single thing in the entire world that could make this moment better –

"Hey, Sango."

Well, almost nothing.

Sango smiled fondly at her younger brother as he sank to the ground next to her. His chocolate eyes were filled with a kind of dreamy haze; '_I probably have the exact same look in my eyes_,' she admittedly silently with a smirk. The two sat in companionable silence for a long while, both staring silently at there entire extended family. '_Yes… this is definitely how life is meant to be_,' the young woman decided.

"What are you working on?" she asked curiously, taking note of the sketchbook and pencils she had given him earlier this week clutched tightly to his chest.

After a moment of hesitation, he haltingly replied, "Just – just something for the apartment." His freckled cheeks flushed slightly, and he averted his eyes.

"Might I see?" Sango prodded, a merry twinkle lighting her eyes as she took note of his blush.

"Well…" he shifted a little. "It's not finished. And it's not that great –"

"I'll give you your other birthday gift after you show me!" Sango encouraged, that wicked twinkle still dancing behind her gaze.

That seemed to do the trick. Kohaku smiled shyly at her. "Well – I guess there's no way I could possibly resist _that_!" Very carefully, he opened the portfolio and handed it to her…

She almost dropped it in shock.

"Kohaku –" the words escaped her, and the boy blushed even harder.

"It's not finished –" he tried to explain –

"Kohaku – no. It's – it's beautiful." Sango couldn't bring herself to look away at the stunning picture she held in her hands. Though it was true, the pencil marks were rough and sketchy, they only seemed to add to the character of the piece. The picture was from the point of view of lying beneath and looking up through the branches of one of the cherry trees, its branches alighted with flowering buds. The way the trunk and the size of the blossom clusters tapered with distance was beautiful, and the way the color was made to fade away with distance only made the piece even more suggestive of the real thing…

"Do you really like it?" Kohaku prompted shyly at her silence.

"I – _love –_ it!" Sango whispered, shaking herself from the reminiscent reverie. "When father sees this – well – there's no question what your calling is, Kohaku. No question."

She didn't even realize she had grabbed him into an impromptu embrace until she felt the young boy pulling embarrassedly away. "It's not _that_ good, Sango!" he defended, still blushing from the praise.

"Yes, it is!" the older girl insisted doggedly. "Come on, let's go show father –"

"Hey!" Before she had made her way completely to her feet, the younger boy grabbed her wrist, laughingly halting her. "Aren't you forgetting something?" When she only looked at him confusedly, he prompted, "My other birthday present?"

"Oh!" She grinned impishly. "Well, I know that you liked the fourth floor apartment that overlooked the park – the one that's just like a mile from home –" she explained in an apologetic tone, as if she were about to say why she wasn't able to make it happen…

But instead, she pulled a key from her pants pocket, the numbers '426' engraved clearly upon it. She dangled it triumphantly –

The only thing that eclipsed Sango's huge, cat-in-the-cream smile was the mirrored one on her brother's face. For one fleeting moment, everything in the universe was perfect – everything moved in beautiful, symphonious harmony –

But such things, it seems, are never permitted to last, and so that single moment of bliss was promptly shattered with the horrified shriek of a woman…

**Make me a happy person - Click that review button!**


	6. Blood Stained Cherry Blossoms

**Disclaimer: Do I even need to say anything else?**

_A gift-wrapped nothing is all you ever gave  
A daughter cries  
A brother runs  
A mother screams in twisted tongues  
A father hangs his head in shame  
No one left to blame_

_-Stare, by Memento_

The keys dropped numbly from Sango's fingers into Kohaku's, and the older girl turned just in time to watch –

- her father dropping to his knees -

"FATHER!" the scream tore from Sango's throat with such horrifying distress that it was a wonder her vocal cords didn't tear. She was running as hard as she could across the clearing, but it was as if she were running through water. She helplessly watched him fall to the ground, even as his family swarmed around him –

She shoved her way roughly through them, flinging herself to the ground at his side. "FATHER!" she shrieked, tears pouring down her face, burning her cheeks and blurring her vision; she kept moving her hands over his body, trying to think of something –anything – to do, but unable to come up with anything.

He moved his mouth, trying to speak, but nothing came out.

"Father, I love you! Please don't leave me!" she pleaded hysterically, squeezing her hands urgently over his –

'_- sticky -_'

Sticky hands – time slowed as Sango, so hesitantly, tore her eyes from his fast glazing stare, to look at his –

Bloody hands.

As if in a dream, she slowly and oh so gently moved his hands. With horror, Sango watched as his crimson-life force pumped from his chest. Her eyes shot uncertainly back to his face –

But Sango's father was already dead.

"Father?" she whispered, stroking his cheek gently, smearing his own blood across his ashen cheeks as she tried to awaken him. "Father – don't go – don't –"

So stupidly consumed was she with the body she was holding that she barely noticed the second scream.

'_This can't be happening._' Tears stung her eyes as she continued to try to coax life back into her father's body. '_Wake up, father… you can't leave us…_' This _wasn't_ happening. It couldn't be.

Dark grief swirled about her in an impenetrable storm of disbelieving melancholy; as it were, she didn't know how long she crouched there. All she knew was that she suddenly became aware of strong hands gripping her shoulders, shaking her hard as someone screamed into her face. "Sango – Sango!"

Sango blinked stupidly at her little brother and felt another wave of anguish wash over her. "Father is dead."

Kohaku looked down at their father and at his sister, covered in his blood, but remained aloof from it; his eyes were filled with uncertainty and terror. "We have to _go_ Sango! Something is happening!"

'_Damnit, Sango! Be strong for him! Snap out of it!_'

"What?" Slowly, Sango shook herself from her daze of anguish –

And withheld absolute, pure pandemonium.

The air that had just been filled with a playful, gentle breeze only minutes ago was now painted with the terrified, pain-filled screams of her relatives. She could only watch numbly as they tried to run for their lives –

With horror, Sango watched as the young cousin her eyes had been sliding over in her momentary scan seemingly lost her footing in her mad dash and slammed hard into the ground, her escape stopped from the force of a silent bullet penetrating her chest…

It was an ambush.

"Kohaku!" Sango, suddenly lucid, grabbed her brother roughly by the collar and dragged him to the ground next to her. She saw him wince squeamishly as she got their father's blood on him, but she ignored it as resolutely as she ignored the stabbing pain in her heart. "I need you to run to the docks! Get in a boat if you can, or swim for it – just get to shore! Stay low!" She dug in her pockets frantically, then shoved her car keys in his limp hands. "Get the hell out of here – get help!"

"Sango – I won't leave you –"

"_Just do it!_" she snarled, and shoved him towards the docks. She ignored his fear-widened eyes, and forced herself not to follow him. "_Stay low!_"

She didn't even wait to see if he did as she told him. Instead, she turned in the opposite direction, and ran for all she was worth. "_Stay low!_" she screamed helplessly, but no one seemed to be listening to her –

A slight motion in the very corner of her left eye alerted her to a presence in the woods. She might not have noticed it at all if it weren't for the fact that she was trained for this sort of thing.

And in that moment, Sango forgot all her training. '_Don't let it get personal. Don't get emotional. Don't rush blindly into anything –_' that well-trained little voice screamed in the back of her head.

But it was too late. Sango saw red. She was like a hound on the scent of its prey. She practically flew over the ground as she entered the forest in leaps and bounds, her hand instinctively reaching to her side –

'_Gods-DAMNIT!_' she shrieked mentally, her minds-eye taking her to exactly where she had left her gun. '_Won't need this at a family reunion_,' she had thought bemusedly, closing the gun in her locker at the agency.

So what, exactly, she expected to accomplish in the woods, the logical part of her mind couldn't answer. Her heart could, though, and so Sango rushed headfirst into danger, skidding to a halt to crouch with her back against a tree, listening –

The snap of a twig was all the warning he got before she was upon him.

He saw her coming at the last possible moment, and he tried to whirl, but he was already too late; Sango grappled for his rifle with one hand while the other went straight for his face –

Dirt and foliage sprayed up as the trigger was pulled several times, but the barrel was still being forced uselessly towards the ground. Amid the distant scream of her dying relatives now were the grunts of the two grappling for the rifle –

"Oomph!" A knee connected hard with flesh –

The gun was fired three times in rapid succession…

Sango panted heavily over the body of the assassin for only a moment before taking off at a silent sprint through the woods –

'_How the hell many are there?_' she thought, kicking another dead body. She froze as she heard the nearby static of a walkie talkie; slowly, very slowly, Sango crept through the underbrush towards her new prey –

"Hey! The brother is headed towards the docks!" she heard a voice announce over the walkie-talkie.

All blood drained from her face, and her heart squeezed painfully. '_The brother – Kohaku is headed towards the dock… so – they're – after – me?_' The implications that that realization didn't even begin to sink in before what they had just said – '_Kohaku!_'

"_No!_" she screamed defiantly, leaping out of the bushes in a fury of gunfire. "_You won't touch him!_" The man spasmed wildly as the rounds sank into his flesh.

She was already off. She slung the rifle over her back and ran as hard as she could towards the dock; her breath was coming in rapid gasps, but she could only push herself harder. The world around her faded to a mere blur – belatedly, she realized that the screams of her family were becoming few and far between, and some corner of her mind knew what that meant. She couldn't let the grief come, however; Kohaku needed her. She would see him to the docks even if only by becoming a human shield –

The braches of the orchard trees, those trees that she had loved so dearly her entire life, now scratched and grabbed at her body as she flew into their midst, as if they were trying desperately to hold her back. Sango ignored the stinging whips and refused to slow her pace – she was so close now –

And there was Kohaku, waiting at the edge of the orchard, his back to the docks. He was clearly waiting for her. Despite the love of the gesture, Sango felt an insatiable urge to slap him and scream at him and hug him and weep all at the same time –

So close now – just a few more rows – she was almost to him – just a few more steps -

In a momentary flash of pain her knee simply would not carry her any further. With a horrified scream, the momentum of Sango's mad dash sent her tumbling roughly to the ground; it was a wonder she didn't break her neck as she slamming and rolled across the dirt. She was certain she had just tripped until she tried to stumble back to her feet and discovered to her revulsion that her throbbing knee simply would not do it. She looked down –

To see the knee tripping with blood, a bullet hole shot clear through it.

"Kohaku, RUN!" she shrieked helplessly at her brother, crawling frantically across the soft grass towards him, all the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as the hurried thumping of feet heralding someone approaching her from behind. "GODS-DAMN IT, JUST RUN!" her voice broke with urgency, but she continued to crawl away from her unseen attacker…

"I would never leave you, Sango!" he cried fiercely, tears spilling from his eyes as he took a step towards her –

The movement revealed a young girl standing in silent stillness behind him; for half a heartbeat, the young agent was sure the girl was a wraith –dressed in all white, with pale features and hair, her face expressionless as she raised a glistening metal baseball bat –

"_Noooooo!_" Scream, shout, yell – no words could possibly describe the sound that ripped from the helpless girl's throat as she watched the arc of the descending weapon; one hand was fruitlessly outstretched towards her brother, willing him to move from its path, even as she knew even the gesture was too late. In that half a moment, the only sound was her horrified shriek –

- which was permeated with the sickening crack as the blow connected with his head –

And followed by a scream of helpless anguish as Kohaku's lifeless form crumpled slowly to the ground. Scarlet oozed from the wound in his held, staining the once innocently-colored flower petals in which he laid. His form was still, deathly still, as he rested upon a silken blanket of blood stained cherry blossoms. Sango dragged herself frantically across the ground, leaving a crimson trail of her own as she struggled to his side.

'_No –_'

It had happened too fast. It had _all_ happened too fast.

Gently, oh so gently, she cradled her brother's broken head in her lap, stroking the blood matted hair from his face. "Kohaku… Kohaku…" she whimpered, unable to believe – unwilling to believe –

"Kohaku… wake up…" She was completely unaware of the impending doom now closing in from all sides – all she could bring herself to concentrate on was that faint possibility that this was some horrible nightmare. Never mind the sharp stinging and throbbing in her knee; never mind the warm, sticky blood covering her hands; never mind the aching realization throbbing in her heart, threatening to tear the very fibers of her existence apart. '_This isn't happening. This can't be happening._'

An emotionless drone of a girl's voice vaguely penetrated Sango's inexplicable sorrow. "So you are the one. Agent Taijiya."

A slow heat was flooding her mind, burning its way through her cloud of anguish like an angry sun through a thick fog.

"_I'll kill you!_" Sango hissed breathlessly, whipping the rifle from her back in one fluid motion; before she could even blindly pull the trigger strong hands were grappling for the weapon. "_I'll kill you all!_" the brunette screamed hoarsely, unable to form any coherent thoughts beyond the torrent of emotions sweeping her away. She fought viciously for the only lifeline she had left, but a heavily-booted foot connected solidly with her ribs, and in the heartbeat she flinched away the weapon was ripped harshly from her clutching fingers.

The force of a second kick to the stomach sent her careening back across the silken blossoms. Her gasping breaths came raggedly as her now broken ribs stabbing painfully against her lungs. Like a cornered, wild animal, she blindly tried again to attack those who had taken so much from her…

But again, she was easily beaten back, and this time the thrashing did not stop when she slammed into the ground. Instead, the heavy kicks and strikes kept coming. And coming.

And coming.

Tears slid down her blood-stained face; the pain she felt by far transcended her physical state. The blows kept coming long after she ceased to move, long after she ceased to _want_ to move.

"Kohaku," she whimpered, prying open one already-swelling eye, looking expectantly towards her brother, honestly believing that he _must_ have awoken at her plight. But he laid unmoved and unmoving, features still lax with the seeming serenity of sleep.

The utter silence shrouding the little island was the only mocking answer her gentle plea received, viciously taunting: none had survived the onslaught.

'_He's – he's dead. They all are._'

All will to fight went rushing from her body as the realization finally sank in, a blade of ice slicing painfully through her heart: no matter what she did, he would never wake up… And yet, if she could only touch him – just one last time –

She reached one bloodied hand towards his lax face –

Rough hands tangled in her hair, viciously denying her that one last wish – that meager desire to stroke her beloved brother's cheek once more – and with a single yank, dragged to her knees. Though the pain of having her bruised and bloodied body dragged backwards in such a way was excruciating, her eyes remained riveted upon his body until the fingers twined in her tresses snapped her head up. Vaguely, she was aware of the cocking of a gun…

As if to mock the dark void fast filling her heart, the sun peeked and glinted merrily through the lace of flowered branches above her. She felt a hard metal objected pressed firmly to her back but she didn't flinch away. Instead, she stared fixatedly at that gay sun, willing herself to wake up from this unfathomable nightmare… or if that weren't possible, to die…

"You have no bullet proof vest to save you this time," the monotone girl noted dryly.

Already her body and heart were irreparably broken – but that apparently wasn't enough. "Naraku insisted you know they all died because of you," a huskily feminine voice announced impatiently from behind her; strange, to think so few words – such simple words – could be the final, killing blow. '_Because of me_,' the realization echoed hollowly through her shattered soul, meting out a spiritual punishment much worse than any hell. "Now just _do_ it – we're done here!"

The ringing of a revolver was accompanied by an unbearably searing pain as the bullet was fired point-blank into her back, execution style.

She was vaguely aware of the sensation of being dragged, but everything quickly faded away to darkness, and the young woman readily welcomed the embracing nothingness…

**Sorry it has taken me so long to update – I've been writing on "If Ever There Were a Way", another SanMir escapade of glittering resolve, love, and loyalty.**

**Please let me know what you think so far. Was it understandable? Did I get the emotions across? Is the writing style ok? How would you improve it? Is anyone still reading this?**


	7. Flirt

**Flirt**

**Disclaimer: Not necessary. I am on correct?**

**Thank you so much for the reviews!**

"Well aren't you just all looking fine today?" A few of the nurses tittered precariously, their bird-like giggles paying testament to their bird-like minds.

Ok… Saying bird-like minds wasn't fair. They were professional, intelligent women, after all. It was just the forced way they automatically giggled at _anything_ he said that had, over time, lessened his opinion of "the flock of fangirls" (as he secretly called them).

Not that he really minded "the flock". They were friendly enough – definitely more friendly to him than "the non-flock". And it wasn't as if he _discouraged_ their fawning over him…

Nope; Dr. Miroku was only a man, after all.

"Doctor, do you think you're free for dinner _tonight_?" one of the younger, bolder nurses ventured, her voice innocently high and provocative at the same time. She made a bit of a pouting face, obviously to guilt him over the way he had been blowing off her advances ever since the _last_ time they had made such an engagement…

It took all his self control not to sigh. To his merit he didn't reply instantaneously, the way he wanted to. Instead, he checked his watch and frowned, feigning regret.

"Umm - no, Koharu. I um – I don't think I'll have time for that. I'm booked rather tight today – by the time I'm done, I'll just be wanting to go home to rest."

"How about I come back to your place and make you something, then?" she persisted immediately, obviously not so readily willing to admit defeat. Her pale eyes flashed with resolve.

"That's alright, Koharu. I can do that myself."

"Then perhaps you just want company?" she offered hopefully.

If anyone knew him well enough they might have noticed his frown slowly morph into a scowl. "I'm afraid I must decline the offer."

Ok, so he enjoyed the attention and the friendly working environment, he didn't necessarily enjoy the more aggressive of "the flock". When he had been a younger man he had definitely relished in it – and boy, had he broken a lot of working-relationship codes in his time working at this hospital!

He was a flirt – there was no denying that. His father, a successful businessman, had been the same way – he had treated the ladies like gold, flirting, winking, and smiling his way into their good favors. His mother had probably never been appreciative of it, of course – but, well, what's the harm in having a few 'fangirls'?

_Having_ 'fangirls' wasn't a problem. _Dating_ 'fangirls' was.

Too-sweet smiles, coquettish simpering, flirty batting of the eyes, veiled words. It was like catnip for men! He had been drawn in to the game so readily, so willingly –

Why he hadn't figured out the trend within the first dozen 'fangirls' he didn't know. It wasn't like he had been _looking_ for a pattern, after all…

Nope; it wasn't like Dr. Miroku had a good stack of sexual harassment complaints in his file. A file that was a good couple of inches thick. Nope; definitely not!

Ok… maybe his file did have a few complaints…

If by "a few" you mean a lot, yeah – sure.

Oh sure, there were tons of codes and articles and books about why you shouldn't date people where you work. But hell, Miroku was young and invincible! Fresh out of med school (where, admittedly, there were a lot more men than women – and, admittedly, even if there had been lots of women, it wouldn't have mattered much either way, seeing as he had been rather consumed by his studies), the young doctor had been eager to play the field. You know; make up for lost time? He had just spent eight years in college – eight years! – and he was more than ready to start interacting with the opposite sex.

But where the hell does an intensive care doctor find the time to meet women? At the grocery store at midnight when he gets off work? Umm, the people at the grocery store at midnight are _weird_… (Except for him, of course!) And where was he supposed to _go_? A nightclub? Yeah, like they had a nightclub for doctors in their late twenties. Sure.

Thankfully (or cursedly, whichever way you choose to look at it), he hadn't lost his charm. Miroku had discovered, much to his delight, that he was quite popular with the ladies at work…

How perfect of a plan was that? He'd get to see his sweetie at work, they'd have similar working shifts, they'd even be able to talk about medical stuff…

So, bright eyed and bushy tailed, Miroku had asked out one of the 'fangirls'. How was he supposed to have anticipated that she would be so _boring_?

Ok, maybe boring was an unfair word to use. It wasn't as if she was a bad person or something – she had been a nice enough girl. But the way she was just so – well – yeah, _boring_ – it just wasn't appealing to him. She had been _fake_ – he could tell that right away. She had fawned all over him, hanging on his every word, laughing at everything he said.

At first he had thought he liked that, but the act (and the melodrama that went with it) had grown old very quickly. So, Miroku had dumped her…

And almost immediately started dating one of her peers…

Alright, alright – he knew that wasn't the best way to handle the situation! But the other girl had been so sweet – he had been sure that things would be different with that one!

Or the next one.

Or the one after that.

Before he knew it he had an entire nursing staff clutching scalpels a little too tightly when he walked past. One thing you might not know about scalpels... They're _sharp_. And _pointy_.

Ok, so Miroku might be slow, but he wasn't stupid. Realizing his mistake – and realizing that he wasn't about to find true love among his staff, he had made apologies and quietly asked for a transfer. The administration had been only too happy to oblige.

And so, he had ended up at this new hospital, with a new staff, a clean slate, and a new mantra – "Don't date the staff." But, well, Koharu had seemed like a really sweet girl – and what if she were _the one_? Surely dating just one nurse wasn't really _breaking the rules_. Just one time, right?

Ok, maybe he _was_ stupid.

But seriously, it was a particularly bad twist of luck that the one girl he decided to break the rules for at this new hospital turned out to be _super stalker_. It's not like _that_ was his fault.

His rather dark train of thought was interrupted Koharu, agitated that her simpering and big eyed looks didn't seem to be working magic like she was undoubtedly used to, 'humphed' and stomped away. Several of the other nurses looked from him, to her, and back again with querulous looks painted across their features, but Miroku just threw up his hands and feigned ignorance (an act he was going to be doing a lot more of in the coming hours, days, weeks, and perhaps even months, it seemed).

It was going to be a great day. He could feel it.


	8. Pins and Needles

**Pins and Needles**

**Disclaimer: _fanfiction_…. Um yeah… so give me more reviews!**

They had already dumped the girl's body in the river. It was Naraku's intention for the genocide of her family to be blamed on her, at least for a short while – by the time her body showed up, even her legacy would have been tarnished.

'_He isn't even content with wiping out an entire family. He even has to destroy the memory,_' the punkish-dressed girl thought sourly.

Kagura sniffed distastefully at the scene before her.

Bodies were strewn everyway. Grandparents, aunts, uncles, children – babies, teenagers – it really was an ugly scene. Not the ugliest she had ever seen; no, Naraku certainly had orchestrated much more gruesome scenes than this in the past…

But none before had consisted of wiping out an entire family.

Kagura had never known the love of a family. All she had ever known was existence as one of Naraku's minions, and she knew very well that such an existence was nothing like family. She would feel no remorse, were he and all of her peers beneath him wiped off the face of the earth. In point of fact, she longed for the day someone would do just that. She hated Naraku, she hated what he did, and she hated all those who did it for him. She served him because she had no other choice. Were she to do anything less, she knew he would not hesitate to destroy her.

That didn't stop her, however, from looking for little ways to rebel.

Pins and needles in his side – that was what she was. Every opportunity she got, she would choose her little battles. Small rebellions, she never missed an opportunity to disobey him. Ever crack in the wall weakened the foundation, after all – and someday – _someday_ – Naraku would crumble. It was just her dream to speed up the process.

It was for that reason that Kagura hesitated when she saw the boy stir from the corner of her eye.

The few of their gunmen that were left were bustling hurriedly to remove the bodies of their own fallen. Kanna, in typical fashion, was doing nothing. She was simply standing, waiting silently at the docks for their departure. And Kagura, her own typical fashion, was prowling the scene restlessly, which was how she came to notice the faint signs of life.

The woman froze, wide eyed, and quick drew the monstrous handgun from the small of her back. She pointed it at the young man, startled by the movement.

'_How the hell could he survive a blow like that to the head?_' the young woman wondered in amazement.

The boy continued to stir faintly.

'_Oh well. Guess I'd better just finish the job,_' she thought on initial instinct, and started to pull the trigger ---

But hesitated as the possibilities started to fire through her mind.

'_I bet it'd really hurt Naraku's plans if this one was left alive. Having a survivor to speak against him –_'

And then –

'_Maybe I could get put on some sort of a protection program. They'd think I was a hero – I could say I saved him. And I could give them enough information to bring down Naraku._'

Mass murdering of an entire family – and with her as an inside witness, with this boy – surely that would be enough to spur the police, the FBI, the military – whoever – to jump into action.

Yes – Naraku had managed to slide his way around the limelight until now. He was always very careful – always very thorough. Kagura knew that they were always trying to catch him – always trying to get some kind of hard evidence of his involvement in the underground, always trying to catch him on something _big_…

This was her chance.

He would never know what hit him.

Kagura left the island with the others. She was very careful to not say or do anything out of the ordinary; she suppressed the nervous tingles of excitement shooting through her stomach.

'_Don't die kid. I need you alive,_' she thought fiercely at the boy back on the island.

When they reached mainland she explained calmly that she was going back to double check that they hadn't left any evidence of their presence; she arrogantly shrugged off their offers to help or wait, and soon, Kagura found herself left alone on the island.

She was incredibly careful not to jostle him too much when she dragged him back to the boat. By the time she got him back to her little red sports car, however, she realized she would have to hurry pull this one off.

'_Just stay alive. You're my ticket to revenge,_' she thought gleefully, and with the roar of the engine and the squealing of tires, Kagura was on her way to freedom.

When an artery is involved, even pins and needles can kill.

**Yeah, I know it's been a while. Life has been crazy-busy --- but I'll try to be updating a little more often… But I'm going to need some reviews to motivate me. I like this story, and I'd really like to finish it – so is anyone out there still with me? **


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